The Return to Milan
Camilla's POV
The night after Damian agreed to let me go, I barely slept. My heart raced every time I closed my eyes, as if something inside me knew that walking back into Milan—back into my parents’ house, back into the De-Rosie shadow—would heal me.
When the first light of dawn slipped through the London apartment’s curtains, I was still awake. I moved around the room, folding maternity dresses and scarves into a suitcase.
My hands were trembling over every piece of fabric, not from exhaustion, but from the weight of what I was about to face.
For months, I had hidden behind Damian’s presence—his shield, his calm, his ability to stare down a room full of predators and never blink. But in Milan, there would be no shield. Just me, my parents’ disappointment, and the
